


THE CAMP COLLECTION

by coughcough



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Everyone Is Alive, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Movie: IT (2017), Movie: IT Chapter Two (2019), Nobody is Dead, Reddie, benverly - Freeform, the purest thing i will ever write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-09 11:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20994341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coughcough/pseuds/coughcough
Summary: A collection of short snippets from the Loser's camp getaway.__Fluffy, good ol' fashioned fun to fix your post Chapter Two heartaches. Takes place whenever you want, late teens/young adults/adults. Pennywise could also totally not be a thing if you want to read it that way. This is just the good times, bae-bey. Rated T for explicit language.





	1. Bird Watching

Bill looks down at his feet in the clear water. He’s still enough that little fishes start to come out and tickle his ankles. Stan is sat next to him, although he still has his shoes on. Stan looks through his binoculars and watches the horizon.

‘Anything?’ Bill asks.

‘Sparrow,’ Stan mumbles, intent on his focus. ‘White-throated sparrow.’

‘Is that a rare one?’

‘No,’ Stan responds.

Bill watches Stan, the way he has his legs crossed and back as straight as a rod. They’d be the same height if Bill didn’t slouch. There’s a small lining of copper fuzz on Stan’s arms, covering up pale skin and freckles.

‘I think I saw a Kirtland’s Warbler this morning, though.’ Stan continues, keeping his voice hushed even though the birds he’s watching are on the other side of the lake. ‘That one is rare.’

‘How do you know if you- you know, saw it?’ Bill asks, making sure to keep his voice low. Stan had screamed bloody murder at Richie the last time he scared a bird away.

‘Research. A bit of confidence, or a bit of ignorance.’ Stan lets out a small chuckle, barely a breath. Bill doesn’t get it, but he lets out the same chuckle. He moves his foot in the water and watches the ripples- small, at first, but they spread out gently to the end of the dock, and even further past. Bill can hear the conversations trickling down from the cabins- Bev is laughing. Eddie is shouting about something; Bill can’t quite make it out. Bill can smell campfire smoke, mixing with the pine trees and heavy early evening air.

‘You wanna look?’ Stan offers, peeling his own eyes from the binoculars. They were vintage. He holds them out to Bill as if it were something tempting- like a joint, or a can of beer.

Bill nods and takes hold of the binoculars. He lifts them to his eyes and focuses them on Stan, who is trying his hardest not to smile.

‘At the birds, not me.’

Bill grins and turns his view out towards the lake.


	2. Stacey's Mom

Richie fixes his fingers into an E chord and strums. His fingers were a little too far apart and the chord came out wrong. Richie clears his throat and tries again-

‘Eddie, can I come over after sch-O-o-o-oo-ol?’ Richie sang. Beverly let out a shrieking laugh and slaps her thigh. Ben raises his eyebrows at her, giggling. Eddie, on the other hand, was glaring at Richie with the heat of a gazillion suns.

‘We can hang around by the p-oo-oo-ol,’ He was goofin’ on the chords, but it was hard to play, sing, and try (keyword try) to hold back laughter. Richie looked at Eddie and let out a guffaw- holy shit, he was so mad. Richie hadn’t even reached the chorus.

Eddie punches Richie in the arm- ow- and the lyrics slipped out of his mind. ‘Did your mom get back from somethingsomething somethi-i-ing?’

‘Fuck it- sing it with me!’ Richie exclaims. The Losers raised their beer cans into the air, except for Eddie, who was screeching into Richie’s ear to stop.

‘EDDIE’S MOM HAS GOT IT GOIN’ ON!’ They sung over Eddie’s protests.

‘No she- she fuckin’ doesn’t! You’re a piece of shit! You all suck!’ He shouts, trying to pry the guitar from Richie’s arms. Richie stood up and the fight got much harder, but that didn’t stop Richie from his performance. The Losers kept the song going, Richie stepping back from Eddie as he laughs, evading all of Eddie’s feeble attempts.

‘Get stronger, Eds!’ Richie says before going back into the lyrics.

Eddie’s ‘don’t fucking call me Eds, fuckhead!’ is drowned out by the Losers trying to figure out how to make the next lyric fit- Richie’s voice shone over the confused drunken mumbles.

‘Eddie, can’t ya see, you’re just not the guy for me-‘ For whatever reason, probably the three beers he had, something compels Richie to wink at Eddie. ‘Everybody now!’

‘I KNOW IT MIGHT BE WRONG, BUT I’M IN LOVE WITH EDDIE’S MOM!’ They all cheer, spare for Eddie who successfully snatches the guitar out of Richie’s arms.

‘Stop.’ He says, with all the force of a 32-year-old lady. Stan howls with laughter.

Richie raises his hands up in defeat, plopping back down on his tree stump. Eddie did the same, placing the guitar as far from Richie as he could.

‘Fuck you so much.’ Eddie says, barely meaning it. By the flickering light of the campfire, Richie can see Eddie blushing.


	3. Fire Starter

Mike squats down and rearranges the logs, setting them up in a teepee formation.

‘Oh.’ Ben says.

‘Yeah, so that the smoke has somewhere to go.’ Mike explains, pushing himself back up. ‘Otherwise, the fire can’t breathe.’

Mike inhales. There was no way to escape the association of fire and his parents.

‘Sorry, Mike.’ Ben pats Mike on the shoulder. He leaves his hand there as the two stare down at the unlit logs.

‘Don’t be.’ Mike grins at Ben. He didn’t do anything wrong. ‘Do you have a lighter?’

Ben’s eyes widen slightly- no, he doesn’t. Bev raises her hand from where she’s seated, watching the boys try to get the fire started. She opens her palm slightly, revealing a cherry red lighter.

‘Right ‘ere.’ Her cigarette sits on her lip. She gets up, leaving her pile of blankets on her fold-out chair and she leans down by the fire pit. Bev only has to flick the gear once before getting a steady flame and setting the kindling alight.

Mike watches the way Ben stares at her, eyes full of love. The fire starts to catch just in time for the sun to disappear beneath the horizon. When Bev stands back up, Ben takes her under his arm.

‘Are you cold?’ Ben asks. Beverly shakes her head no, but she pulls herself closer to him.

Mike picks up a stick from off the ground and uses it to direct the flames to the right places. Bev and Ben sway to a song Mike can’t hear, but he can’t help but smile for his friends.


	4. Half Horse, Half Man

‘Stan.’ Richie hisses, watching his voice. He didn’t want to wake anyone else up. ‘Stan. Stanley. Stan. Staniel. Stan. Stan, dude! Get out here!’

‘What do you want?’ Stan groans, unzipping his tent.

‘The stars are out, dude. Let’s go.’

Then they’re on the lake, sitting in a worn-down rowboat. It would usually take a lot more convincing to get old man Stan anywhere, but he had a soft spot for nature.

He can hear Richie paddling, trying to be as quiet as possible. The soft sounds of the paddle stirring up the water, the way the boat creaked with each movement either boy made. They were far away from the shore and the cricket's sounds were barely echoes this far out.

Richie slaps his cheek out of nowhere. Stan gives him a confused look.

‘Mosquito.’ Richie explains. ‘It sucked me.’

‘Gross.’ Stan says. The night sky was crystal clear, unblemished by clouds or city pollution. The only light came from the bright moon, illuminating the two and their boat in a pale shine. Richie’s bug-eyed glasses reflect the entire sky in their lenses. Stan almost wants to say something- it wasn’t often Richie was silent. He decides against it, taking his eyes off Richie’s dazed face and looking back up for himself.

They stare at the sky, breath taken, for a few minutes.

‘Look there,’ Stan demands. He points up. ‘That’s Centaurus.’

Richie squints.

‘Those are his legs- that’s his head.’ Stan keeps pointing and Richie tries to follow where the movements are pointing, but there are just so many stars in the sky.

‘You’re a dork, Stan. I hope you know that.’ Richie says, from the bottom of his heart. Stan looks down at him and offers a small smile, the way Stan does. Richie returns it before looking back up at the sky- oh. There it was. Half-horse, half-man.

‘Thanks, Richie.’ Stan says, eyes fixated on stars.

‘My pleasure, man.’


	5. Teach A Man To Fish

‘My dad taught me how to fish.’ Bill answers, trying to get a worm onto his hook.

Ben raises his eyebrows slightly, looking down at his own hook, already baited.

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to-‘

‘No, I got it. I got it.’ Bill interrupts.

‘You’re sure?’ Ben asks, looking Bill up and down.

‘Fine.’ Bill thrusts his rod towards Ben, sitting down so hard the boat rocks.

Ben tries to hold back a sly smile as he baits Bill’s fishing rod. Bill watches, thrumming his foot against the bottom of the boat.

‘You just gotta do it like that.’ Ben passes the fishing rod back to Bill. Bill mumbles a thank you before standing back up, the boat rocking again, and casts his line off into the water. Ben sends his line into the water from where he’s seated and watches it go.

‘Now what?’ Bill asks, sounding like a curious toddler.

‘Didn’t your dad teach you?’

Bill doesn’t respond. Ben regrets asking immediately.

‘Now we wait.’ Ben says.

‘For how long?’

‘Until you catch something.’

Bill uses his empty hand to rest his chin on, staring off at the water. Ben looks over to him before looking out at his own line. 

‘Thank you for teaching me.’ Bill says after a period of silence.

Ben smiles. ‘No problem. You know what they say.’

‘Give a man a fish, he’ll eat for a day?’ Bill has to hold back from rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling as well.

‘Teach a man to fish, he’ll eat for his whole life- and feed everyone back at camp because Richie forgot to pack any food.’ Ben responds. Bill lets out a laugh, for sure scaring away any fish in the area. Ben doesn’t mind.


	6. Splash

‘I swear to fucking god if I catch a cold I will fucking kill you and your entire goddamned family, and I will not fucking hesitate for a fucking second.‘ Eddie shoots off, shivering in the lake water. ‘I will destroy you, Richie Tozier, and everything you love if I even get so much as a sneeze you human trash compactor.’

‘Please, don’t stop, I’m almost there.’ Richie rolls his eyes back into his head and lets out a falsetto moan.

‘Shut the fuck up. How are you not fucking freezing?’ Eddie asks. Richie shrugs and the water splashes around his hands and shoulders. Eddie hisses, his previously gelled hair now sticking to his forehead. Richie chuckles at the sight.

‘It’s probably your BMI.’ Eddie clutches his arms around his elbows, trying to warm himself up.

‘Wow, you’re calling me fat?’

‘_Wow, you’re calling me fat?_’ Eddie mocks in a whiney voice. ‘No- don’t be sensitive, it’s science. I’m fucking boney, you have actual meat on you.’

‘So I'm meaty?’ Richie sticks his bottom lip out and pretends to start blubbering. Eddie groans. 

‘You’re not fucking fat, dipshit!’ Eddie sends out a splash of freezing water over Richie, soaking him completely. Richie sputters water out of his mouth. Eddie smiles, triumphant before Richie hits him back with an even bigger splash. Eddie recoils with a yelp. Richie laughs, wiping the water off his face.

‘I will fucking destroy you!’ Eddie shouts.

‘I’d like to see you try, fucker. You’re what, 5’2?’ Richie teases. Eddie tackles Richie and drags both of them underwater. Richie starts to pretend he’s drowning, kicking and screaming. 

On the nearby dock, Bev looks to Stan. They both roll their eyes.

‘Fuck already.’ Stan mumbles under his breath, turning a page in his book. Bev snorts.

‘Be nice.’ She scolds.

A few hours later, Bev and Stan head up to the tents. Richie and Eddie stay in the water until the sun goes down. Eddie keeps complaining he’ll get sick and Richie keeps making Eddie feel bad for calling him ‘meaty’, but both their faces hurt from smiling. When they get out of the water they wrap themselves in beach towels and walk back up to the campsite, brushing shoulders ever so slightly, the whisper of bare skin against bare skin.


End file.
